Jumping the Dragon Gate [Bankai Training]

[Munemasa Iroka]

The day had finally arrived. The day Iroka had thought would never come. The day when she would be able to prove to her zanpakutō that she deserved to stand among the greatest names in Soul Society. Or perhaps proving this was more to herself than to her inner spirit. The carp had, after all, been unwilling to acquiesce that she was worthy of taking the final test that stood between her and the ultimate power of the Shinigami: Bankai.

It had started when she had finally been able to force Shugyoku Hirenaga out of its sanctum sanctorum within her mind and into the outside world. According to most, if not all sources, doing this was a sign that a Shinigami had gotten strong enough to attain Bankai. And even then, although a number of Shinigami had been able to accomplish this, not everyone who got to this stage had passed it. This step was merely proof of potential. Iroka would agree that she had potential. But potential was not reality.

Still, when Fuuko had come to her room and given her the go-ahead to apply for Vice-Captainship, it was like the heavens were giving her the sign that this was the go-ahead she had been looking for. As far as Iroka was concerned, Fuuko was most certainly her better, when it came to combat. But to argue in Iroka's favor, the 4th Division was not a combat-oriented Division. And although Iroka was not the highest ranked in the Division, she had not met anyone in the whole of Seireitei, who was as good as she was when it came to being a medic. She had to admit, the accomplishment made her feel proud.

Still, Iroka had felt that her sworn sister was the better candidate for the Vice-Captainship. Which was why, against her own better judgment, she had come to Fuuko to challenge her for the right to claim that spot. And she had honestly surprised even herself, being able to hold out against Fuuko. Still, she had not won, and that had established in her mind that Fuuko would take the position... only to receive the information that Fuuko approved of her being Vice Captain. If this wasn't proof that the position was hers, few things would be sufficient persuasion.

At first, Shugyoku Hirenaga had been unwilling to put her on the final steps to getting Bankai. But to Iroka's surprise, even Mushoku, her inner Hollow, had spoken in favor of Iroka being given the chance to learn Bankai. Iroka felt she knew the devious Hollow's plans, though. Mushoku wanted her to go over the edge while training for Bankai, and then the Hollow could take over her body. But Iroka knew that this was merely another hurdle to leap over on her path to success.

Finally, Shugyoku Hirenaga had conceded. Maybe Iroka was truly ready. But the taste of the pudding was in its eating. That the zanpakutō had conceded did not mean she had accomplished anything. A day had been set for the test, a test that would take place far away from the comforts of home. The fish spirit had warned its owner of the risks involved, of the likely possibility that Iroka could lose even her life in her attempt to unlock this final power. But Iroka was resolute.

She had come this far. There was no turning back. Even though the inner voices in her mind still told her she was not fit to become Vice Captain, let alone have Bankai, she chose not to listen to them. The entirety of her Division believed she was capable. Fuuko believed she was capable. That was enough. She was at least capable enough to take the test. Whether she failed or not was a different story.

For reasons yet unknown to Iroka, her zanpakutō spirit had ordered her to get maps of Rukongai's 80th District. Still, she had complied, and after going through them, she had been alerted by Shugyoku Hirenaga that the Northern District was the place to go. Her test would take place some good distance from the edges of the Northern 80th District. All she needed to know at the time was that she was to travel there, and then take the test. Seemed easy enough, and there was no point in worrying about the details, until they came.

The morning had come, and Iroka had risen early with it. Her night had been quiet, peaceful, still, like a calm before the storm. Still, Iroka was glad for this. Even though there had been something foreboding about the relative calm with which she had spent her night, it was better to be facing an important day well rested, as opposed to being deprived of sleep. She was awake, alert, and in full health. No better time than to face such an ordeal than today.

Iroka had made sure to clear her calendar in preparation for the day, although she told no one of her plans. A light breakfast, a bit of physical exercise to loosen her muscles, and she was ready for the hike into the bowels of Rukongai. As she prepared, her zanpakutō spirit gave her instructions on what she could or could not bring along: no extra weapons or gadgets; only her zanpakutō would be sufficient. Also, she could pack food, but eating was not allowed until the test was done. All these things, Iroka was fine with.

What she did not understand was why she had been instructed to carry a large wooden sotoba along with her. And why she was not permitted to wear anything but a sarashi and fundoshi for the trip. And so she was at the northern gates of Seireitei, with a backpack on her back, geta on her feet, grave marker on her shoulder, and nothing else but underwear. Her inner Hollow certainly had to be behind this. But Mushoku simply laughed, and neither admitted or denied anything.

[Munemasa Iroka]

It was cold. A perfect day for what Iroka suspected would be a rather difficult task. Most others, if dressed the way she was, would have been having issues with the temperature. As someone who quickly found herself steaming uncomfortably in hot temperatures, it was just fine for Iroka. Hefting the large wooden grave marker on her shoulder, the Shinigami took a deep breath, preparing her mind for the challenges to come. It would have been great if she had an idea of what she would be facing.

Iroka had gone to the archives to get an idea of what this trial would entail. She had come away feeling none the wiser. The only thing she had been able to glean was that most attempts to achieve Bankai ended with a sort of battle between Shinigami and spirit. It was to be expected; Shinigami were a violent bunch, after all. Still, the nature of this sort of combat was as varied as the faces of those who wielded the final release of their zanpakutō. She had even read of someone who had achieved his by playing shogi with his zanpakutō spirit.

And there was Fuuko. Her best friend and sworn sister had not even done any fighting, and Fuuko was one of the most aggressive people Iroka knew. Fuuko's case was rather strange, though. The Bankai seemed to have been awarded freely, except that it came with a rather dangerous caveat. Iroka wasn't sure she wanted to have such a situation. It seemed, fortunately, that this would not be the case, though, seeing as Shugyoku Hirenaga seemed interested in having her earn her final release.

As the carrot-top stepped out, a voice sounded a challenge, stopping her in her tracks. She turned to see the bulky form of one of the gate guards of Seireitei step out to investigate who was passing the gate at this time. He had reason to, she surmised. After all, she was not in uniform at the moment, and thus could well have been an outsider trying to get in, or perform some other nefarious plots. Iroka stopped and waited for the guard to reach her. Recognition, mixed with surprise, crossed his features as he drew closer.

"Oh, it's Iroka-chan. What are you doing here?" he asked. "And why are you dressed like... this?" Iroka responded with a cheerful smile. "Oh, it's Kendama-kun!" she replied jollily, mimicking the gate guard. "I have to take a trip to Northern Rukongai, and I was directed by my zanpakutō spirit to dress like this. I have no idea, but I'm sure there's definitely a reason for it," she concluded. "Maybe it's to take advantage of the weather."

The fellow called 'Kendama' did not understand that answer. But then, this was Munemasa Iroka he was dealing with. Very few people understood her. Most thought she was plain mad. But she was very kind, and seemed to get along with others, so the madness was not particularly off-putting. Nor the names. Because even though Kendama was not pleased with the nickname Iroka had, in her usual way, christened him with, he knew Iroka was not insulting him. At least, not intentionally.

Still, it would have been more flattering to have been named after something other than his notable lack of hair. He was huge. He was muscular. He had intricate tattoos. Had Iroka noticed those? No! Heck, she didn't even notice he had lost an eye in a fight. What she had noticed was his head, about as hairy as a river-smoothed rock. And he had been named, whether he wanted the name or not. The gate guard silently wondered how someone could be so unconsciously manipulative. And so sweet, at the same time.

He sighed, as he shifted his huge bulk so she could pass. "Some places in Rukongai can be extremely dangerous," the giant warned, although he did nothing else to stop her. On the one hand, she was quite powerful, and he was well aware of that. On the other hand, she was from the 4th Division, a squad not known for their fighting prowess. But that surely did not discount her usefulness in combat. After all, there was Satoshi Fuuko in that same division.

"Don't worry about me, Kendama-kun, I'll be fine," the ginger-haired girl answered with a grin. "I am quite capable of taking care of myself... most times, haha! See you around, when I get back!" So saying, she took off at a brisk pace, whistling as she marched along, uncaring about the stares thrown her way by the members of the almost antiseptic-looking environment of the 1st District of Northern Rukongai. No one tried to accost her, though. They knew better.

Still, this did not prevent them from throwing disdainful looks the way of the oblivious Shinigami. They were well within reason (they thought) to be offended by such a blatant display of indecency. Seireitei was full of many such poorly behaved people. But the denizens of the 1st District could not complain. Seireitei kept them safe. Maybe if one of the very fancy nobles took note and was disturbed enough by such an attack against propriety, said noble could write a complaint to the Seireitei government, which would very likely be summarily ignored. Nothing they could do.

Kendama watched the receding form of Iroka, as she left Seireitei behind. Then he shrugged and returned to his position. None of the denizens of Rukongai would dare to try to ask him what Iroka was up to, or where she was headed. And that was all well and good. Kendama had no interest in bandying words with pampered, jobless nobles, nor did he have the time to do so. For his part, the gate guard could only wonder what Iroka's errand was. He would probably also never figure out why she had carried a grave marker with her. He guessed he would never know.

[Munemasa Iroka]

For the most part, the people in the districts closer to Seireitei left Iroka alone. In the first few districts, no one said a word to her. Many even averted their gazes from her, hurrying along as though unwilling to be seen in her immediate vicinity. Iroka found that confusing, but amusing. She chuckled and kept walking.

Around the 20th District, there seemed to be a change in behavior towards her passing. Whereas people seemed uncomfortable she was there in the earlier districts, now they seemed to find her curious. There were a lot more stares now. Iroka considered how, if she had more time, she would love to study the psychology of behavior. Why did those in the former districts act as though they were scared of her, when these ones seemed curious?

Some people called out words to her, but Iroka was not paying much attention. Although she took note of the behaviors of the people around, she was more interested in trying to figure out what trials her zanpakutō spirit had in mind for her. In any case, there wasn’t much reason for her to be distracted. Everyone still kept their distance. There were a few who followed her a bit, but they did not do so for long.

The first violent interactions began around the 50th district. Iroka was moving along, slightly more inclined to be in a hurry, as she noticed that there seemed to be indications that the heavy cloud cover would eventually break. If this happened, there was a strong probability that the day would be hot. Heat, in Iroka’s opinion, was never a good factor when one was engaged in strenuous activities. And then a fellow showed up, walking in a haphazard manner towards the Shinigami.

He was most definitely drunk. His gait, as well as the smell of his breath, were obvious giveaways. There were about three other fellows with him, but they did not seem as drunk as he was, and owing to the way they moved around him, it was likely the drunk fellow had some form of authority over them. The man had been walking ahead of the trio, when he saw Iroka. He had immediately changed his trajectory, staggering over towards her. The other three changed course when they saw their leader do the same, and now had blocked the street Iroka was walking on.

”Hey there, beautiful,” the man slurred. ”Do you want to have some fun? I know you want to have some fun. What do you say we all go together for some drinks and a good time?” There were snickers from the rest of the group, as they watched the proceedings.

Iroka found people such as this annoying. Firstly, she felt there was something rude about just meeting a random person on the street, blocking their path, and telling them to get drunk together. What sort of bums got drunk in the morning? There were a host of important activities people had to engage in, while it was day. Getting drunk, in Iroka’s opinion, was an evening thing. Not like she really liked alcohol, anyway. As expected, the real reason for the lowlifes approaching her was lost on the carrot top.

”Thanks for going out of your way to approach me to offer such a thing,” Iroka replied, trying to be as polite as possible, ”but you really should engage yourself in more productive activities, as it’s still early in the day. Getting drunk this early is for slobs. You, sir, being drunk this early, are presently a disgraceful slob. It’s not very attractive. I know you can do better. Please and thank you.”

There. She’d even used the two magic words. And she had expressed herself so politely. Surely, they would walk away, think about their lives, and devote the rest of their day into doing something productive. Alas, they did not. Instead, they seemed to be getting offended. Because she had given them good advice? That was annoying. No wonder Fuuko hated bums.

”What did you call me, you little--” the man started, but Iroka had already squeezed past him and was merrily on her way. He staggered after her and grabbed her long hair roughly, savagely jerking her head backwards. Iroka responded with a swift back kick to his face. She did not have to use Shintenken; there were so many places to attack humanoid targets that would cripple them without much effort.

Iroka’s attack yielded expected results, as the drunk let her go, howling as he fell to the earth while holding his nose. He sat up, glaring at the Shinigami, his nose obviously broken. ”Gedd her! Gedd de bissh!” he fumed, his words slightly muffled by his injury. Iroka paused and stared at him for a moment, and then laughed, genuinely amused. This was a funny fellow.

”I won’t lie, you sound very hilarious, talking like that,” she said, not realizing that she was just getting the punks angrier. The ginger haired girl sighed, a small smile on her face as she shook her head. ”But I know it hurts. So if you hold still, and play nice, I’ll heal your nose and be on my way. A generous offer, ne?” The three underlings, by this time, had placed themselves around her.

”No? Don’t blame me if your nose remains broken for the rest of your life, then. And here was I, trying to be polite. Seems no one teaches anyone manners in these parts of Rukongai. It’s kind of expected, though, although I knew people with more manners than you guys, down in Sabitsura. Anyway, seeing as I am in a hurry, I shall be on my way. Do not try to stop me.”

But when ever did these kinds of people listen?

[Munemasa Iroka]

These fellows were simply a mild inconvenience, Iroka surmised. And yet, she was not eager to practically obliterate them. It wouldn’t do to kill an ant with a jackhammer. Especially as she felt she would most likely feel sorry for the ant eventually. Besides, saving her energy would be wise. Until she knew what sort of tests she had to undergo, it would be safest to conserve her reiatsu.

Judging by the mannerisms of these fellows, they seemed to just be average roughs, without that much combat experience. Of course, they outnumbered her, but it was quite unlikely that this would be an advantage for them. Even if they tried to charge her all at once, Iroka was sure they would make rookie mistakes. Mistakes that she would capitalize on, to make sure they stayed down and out. It was very likely that their leader, who didn’t seem to know which end was up on a knuckle sandwich, would sit back and watch the proceedings.

The first goon lunged at her, even as another one tried to move out of her line of sight. There was really no point in fighting clean. It wasn’t a training session or a duel, after all. Iroka took a pause, then lashed outwards in both forward and back directions. Of course, it was almost physically impossible to make equally powerful attacks on two opponents coming from different positions at the same time. Iroka, as such, put all of her power into the back kick, which caught the second goon right in the solar plexus.

The first, who had come within striking range, was the recipient of an old but dirty trick. The eye poke. Doing an eye poke required very little energy to successfully carry out, and the goon screamed as he clutched at his face. Fortunately for him, Iroka had not rammed her fingers into his eyes, so they would be bloodshot, and hurt for a while, but there would be no permanent damage. Still, this simple but dirty trick would incapacitate him long enough for Iroka to bring the fight to a swift conclusion.

The one who had been kicked in the midsection doubled over, and the third goon, absolutely shocked at his two colleagues being taken out so quickly, paused. That was the worst mistake to make in a fight: being hesitant. Iroka, however, was not wasting any time, swinging the foot she had just driven into someone’s stomach to execute a roundhouse kick to the side of the head of the one whose eye she had poked. He went down like a sack of potatoes.

The third guy, realizing his mistake of not having attacked as soon as possible, considered his options. Iroka could tell that he was seriously considering running away. ”Go on,” she encouraged him. ”I promise I won’t tell anyone you ran away.” The boss, still sitting off to the side and nursing his broken nose, did not seem happy about Iroka’s proffered option. ”Seriously?!” he screamed. ”What do I keep you around for, if you will be useless? Get her!”

Iroka turned on him. ”Well, I don’t see you being very useful yourself, Tough Guy,” she retorted. ”If you’re going to get others to do your dirty work for you, I suggest that you first learn how to handle the work yourself.” She began to walk towards the boss, who whimpered as he tried to scamper away. That was enough to make the third goon lose all interest in continuing the fight. Iroka took note of this, and cast a gaze at the third goon first, then the boss. ”I’m feeling nice today. Don’t follow me.”

She could hear the goon boss loudly berating the other man as she walked away, as he could find no better person to take out his embarrassment on. ”What sort of insipidly crappy show was that?” Mushoku practically screeched in her head. ”Not only did you just give those useless idiots wimpy injuries, but you didn’t even kill anyone! Someone deliver me from this horror Teletubbyland show!” Iroka had no idea what Teletubbyland Show was, but she knew that there were things Mushoku knew that she didn’t.

The inner Hollow was different from other sorts. Not as though Iroka had met, or was aware, of any other Vizards within her vicinity. Still, she had secretly done her research on her present condition. In most cases, a Shinigami was corrupted by an inner Hollow when some sort of Hollowfication process occurred, in which the Shinigami was forcibly tried to turn into a Hollow. In Iroka’s case, a Hollow’s essence had been grafted onto her soul, so the Hollow was extraneous.

”You know, Mu-mu-chan, it really would be nice if we could get along,” Iroka said, a little timorously, to her inner Hollow. ”There’s so much you know that I don’t, and we could learn so much from each other.” The inner Hollow made a scoffing sound. ”As if, you little shit!” came the response. ”And stop calling me ‘Mu-mu-chan’! I swear, I’ll rip your throat out the next time you do that.”

”Sorry, Mu-mu-chan….”

”Again! I swear, I’m gonna kill this stupid bimbo!!”

There was a bit of silence, afterwards, as Iroka resumed her journey. Then Mushoku spoke up once more, her voice suspiciously placatory. ”You know, Little Fish, if you really want us to get along, you could just let me take over your body, yeah? It’s not like anything terrible will happen.” Iroka shook her head. ”I can’t, at least not yet. I’m sorry. If I did, people would sense your presence in my reiatsu, and kill me, which would lead to your demise as well. But I would really want to let you out. Only that you aren’t making it possible, as you will definitely try to kill someone if I grant that request.”

”Just more and more reasons to relish your squeals when I have my hands around your throat, you stupid brat,” Mushoku spat. ”You’re useless, you’ve always been useless. And that’s why you will never achieve your life’s dreams. Because you could never have the strength to reach out and claim power for yourself.” Iroka paused. ”I’m afraid that is incorrect,” she finally said, ”because if I really was so weak, we wouldn’t be traveling here to attain Bankai.”

”Gods… I hate this brat….”

[Munemasa Iroka]

With Mushoku falling silent, except for the occasional grumble, Iroka turned her thoughts to her zanpakutō spirit. "Hey, Shugyoku Hirenaga, are you ready now to tell me exactly where I'm going? And why I'm dressed like this and carrying the sotoba?" The zanpakutō spirit did not answer. Iroka sighed. It had not answered her the first time she had asked, except saying it was necessary for her to achieve Bankai. Being the polite person she was, she decided not to force things. She would learn the answer in time.

Iroka's walk had brought her by now to much more dangerous regions of Rukongai, the places where unseated Shinigami did not dare patrol. Yet, she walked briskly and apparently heedless of caution, her intent being to find this place of which her zanpakutō spirit had spoken. For her, the sooner she finished this, the sooner she could return to Seireitei. But there was a nagging doubt in the back of her mind, the question as to whether she had what it took. Then she remembered Fuuko's tears and the nature of her friend's own Bankai. For Fuuko's sake, she had to achieve it.

There seemed to be some movement out of the corner of her eye, but when Iroka turned, there was nothing. It seemed someone, or some people, were following her. As things stood, they seemed to have some level of skill, as they managed to stay relatively concealed. Iroka's senses weren't the best, so she couldn't tell how many there were. But she knew she was being shadowed without a doubt. It seemed some of her followers even had some amount of reishi. She would have to be careful.

Iroka turned down a street, a particularly long one, only to see that it had been blocked. With people, and lots of them. The street she had come from was filling up as well, cutting off her way of exit as well. There were many ways to deal with this, and the most favorable seemed to be avoiding them. As Iroka knew Shunpo, she could easily take to the air and avoid them, and only those with similar ability would be able to follow her. She was sure hardly anyone here would have such a skill.

"Keep going forward."

Those were the only words Shugyoku Hirenaga said. Iroka paused, awaiting further explanation, but none came. So she began walking forward again, towards the throng which silently awaited her arrival. They were armed with sticks and other crude weapons. Obviously hostile, and Iroka could guess why. A strange sight, such as she was, was almost certainly a Shinigami, and folks in these parts detested her kind.

They would try to kill her for being from Seireitei, that much was obvious. If she wasn't a Shinigami, well, too bad. But these guys were not the kind to care if some innocent was beaten to death. Death was kind of a normalty for most souls here, often regarded with some degree of nonchalance, even among those who carried it out on others. Still, if she could help it, she would not kill them. Didn't mean she couldn't beat the crap out of them.

The Shinigami turned aside, moving to one of the houses which flanked the street. Almost reverently, she leaned the sotoba against the wall of the building, and walked back into the middle of the lane. The fellows behind her were still advancing, and now the ones in front of her began to move forward as well. "Gentlemen..." Iroka said expectantly, cracking her knuckles. They charged.

It was like one of those old human world kung fu flicks she had seen multiple times. With a chorus of yells, the mob charged her. Iroka, quite proficient in hand-to-hand martial arts, and armed with the ability to inflict incapacitating blows with single strikes, did not hesitate to reply with violence. Wave after wave, they came, and Iroka beat them back, using her Shintenken to keep them at arms' length. Even then, fighting so many people all at once was definitely going to result in getting hit herself.

If Iroka had wanted to kill them, two well-aimed spells would quickly bring an end to the folly of attempting to attack an officer of the Gotei 13. But she was unwilling to take any lives; besides, there was an almost wicked desire to see if she could really pit herself against scores of people and come out on top. So she fought, with arms and with wits, and a little bit of reiatsu. Shintenken was great at using the environment to one's advantage, and Iroka made sure to use the surroundings as obstacles or aids in fighting, ensuring that she was never overwhelmed by the large numbers at once.

Eventually, the street was silent, save only for the groans of the injured and Iroka's heavy breathing. Casually stepping on the bodies she had felled, the ginger Shinigami went back to where she had dropped the sotoba, picked it up, and continued her journey. She had quite a number of scratches and a few bruises, but she was in one piece, over all. Feeling some degree of pride at her accomplishment, Iroka took a few turns, and was met with the vista of an expanse of wildland. She had come to the end of District 80, Northern Rukongai.

[Munemasa Iroka]

Even as Iroka came to the edge of Rukongai, she suspected she had an idea of where her zanpakutō spirit would ask her to go. "You have been here before," the spirit said, "so I'm sure you remember the waterfall in the forest some kilometers from here. That is where we are going." Iroka nodded. For some reason she was not sure of, she had suspected that waterfall would be her destination.

As to what was to be found at the waterfall, she would have to get there and discover it. But getting there would be a challenge of its own. The rabble of Rukongai were one thing, but the wildlands beyond the 'Wandering Soul City' contained a lot more threats than irascible goons. Hollows included. Perhaps if she tried to suppress her reiatsu, Iroka would be able to avoid encountering any Hollows, or more dangerous threats out in the wilds. 

The carrot-top prepared herself to use Shunpo to cover the distance she was expected to travel, but was quickly stopped. "No flash stepping," said Shugyoku Hirenaga. "You must traverse this distance by simply walking or running." Iroka sighed. Unfortunately for her, as much as she disliked this, her zanpakutō spirit had the prerogative here. If she wanted to earn her final release, Iroka would have to jump all the presented hoops.

Well, there was little time to waste. The Yonbantai Shinigami set off at a sprint through the lightly wooded area before her. There were well-worn paths through this area on which many feet, of souls and others, had trod. As one moved further out, the paths became less serviced, until one came to absolutely wild regions, with little to no signs of civilization of any kind. Iroka's destination was somewhere around where the absolute wilderness began. She had discovered it on a personal foray beyond Rukongai, and except for praising the natural beauty of the waterfall, had thought little of the place. Until now.

As Iroka traveled, she suddenly sensed that something was in her vicinity. Something with a notably high reiatsu signature. Out in a place such as this, it was very likely that there were no allies here; whatever was there was most likely an enemy. And it was also very likely that whatever this was, was actively tracking her. A mixture of instinct and training informed her to duck, and a beam of red energy suddenly burst through the vegetation, narrowly missing her head.

"Of course, things could never be so easy...."

[Munemasa Iroka]

Having dodged the attack aimed for her, Iroka remained crouched and ready to spring and dodge again, if need be. The sound of feet walking over twigs and fallen plant matter informed her that whatever had just tried to blast her was approaching. It seemed to be walking very quickly... or it had a troubling amount of legs. As the creature appeared, Iroka saw that the case was the latter. She dropped the sotoba in her hands as she prepared to face this foe.

Hollows were hardly creatures of beauty, but this one was particularly ugly. It had, as expected, a white ceramic mask, with teal lines decorating one half of the mask, and leaving the other plain. The mask itself resembled an insectoid head, but there were eight rather long tentacle-like appendages which extended below the mask and wriggled around. The rest of the Hollow's body was black in color, and looking closer, Iroka observed that most of its form was cased in little but hard chitin scales. It had about twenty pair of legs, and its elongated body could rear up, with a pair of pincers close to its head, which functionally served as arms.

Based on its size and the amount of reiatsu this thing had, Iroka could assume that this thing was no regular Hollow. It was definitely a Menos, most likely Adjuchas class. This was not going to be easy by any stretch, but Iroka was not going to turn back now. "Who would have thought such a tasty morsel would show up here?" the Hollow gloated, as it began climbing the trees nearby, attempting to circle around Iroka. Either intimidation tactics, or it could constrict like a snake.

The latter was not at all impossible, but the Hollow had not come within striking distance yet, simply trying to encompass the space in which Iroka stood with its long body. Although Iroka tried to pay attention to the rest of its body, she turned so that she could keep a literal eye on the creatures head. "You are correct that it's quite unexpected for food to show up in such wild lands such as this," Iroka answered, "so good for you. I have no interest in your food, and I'm not going to get in your way of eating, so you don't have to attack me or try to scare me off. I have other business to attend to."

The Hollow laughed. "You don't seem very bright, my dear. Why, you are the tasty morsel, and well, you said you wouldn't get in my way of eating, so why not just lie down and close your eyes? I promise it will be quick and painless." Iroka gave an impatient huff. "Look, we can set up a meeting tomorrow or something, ne? As I said, I'm in a hurry, so I have no time to lie down and close my eyes. Just give me your address, and I'll come by tomorrow." There was a pause. "Uh, you do have an address, don't you?"

[Munemasa Iroka]

The Hollow stared at Iroka for a moment. "Really, I don't know if you're just very stupid, or you're playing with me, but if you must know, it's not putting you in a flattering light. You Shinigami always think us Hollows less intelligent than you. But I'll be nice and give you this freebie of information: I'm a lot smarter than the average Hollow of even my class. And my class is a lot smarter than the average Hollow."

Iroka looked around, a quizzical expression on her face. "Hmm... well, the light here is mostly different shades of green, due to the sunlight reflecting off the forest's leaves. I don't know why you think green is not a flattering light, but green is a really fun color, if you know what you're doing with it. Besides, my eyes are a shade of green, and people say they're cute." The Hollow paused again, then nodded slowly. "Yeah, this one's an idiot for sure."

Suddenly the Hollow sprang off the tree, coiling its body as it tried to constrict like a noose around the Shinigami. Iroka was however expecting such a thing, and leaped into the air, evading its attempt to catch her. The Hollow swung its upper body at her, but she kicked it, while still airborne. It didn't seem to have any effect on the Hollow, who swatted her out of the air, sending her flying into a tree trunk. Iroka sprang to her feet immediately, avoiding another attempt to get constricted.

"You move around a lot," the Hollow said, a bit of frustration seeping into its voice. "So do you, Geji-geji," Iroka replied nonchalantly. The Hollow stared at her. "What did you call me?" it asked, feeling some measure of insult. Iroka raised an eyebrow. "Geji-geji. That's accurate, isn't it? You look like a cross between a geji-geji, a spider crab, and a three-day old booger."

A red ball of light began forming where the Hollow's mouth was supposed to be. "DIE, you miserable varmint!" the creature shrieked, just before the red ball erupted into a beam aimed at Iroka. The impact of the blast kicked up a lot of smoke and dirt, and there was silence in the forest. "Stupid, loudmouthed--" "That was close, Geji-geji. I'd always known insects were damn ugly, but blind and ugly isn't a very nice combination." As the smoke cleared, the Hollow saw that its blast had narrowly missed the Shinigami. It charged at her, its pincers snapping.

[Munemasa Iroka]

Iroka backpedaled as the Hollow charged her, trying to keep out of reach of its snapping pincers. It seemed this fight was going to be a lot hairier than she had expected. Using her Shikai was the next best course of action, all things considered. The only issue with her weapon was that it did little to help her offensively in battle. However, she had much faster healing options, and better defense, so it did seem like a good idea to whip out Shugyoku Hirenaga.

The Hollow, however, did not seem eager to give her any room to maneuver. "DIE! DIE!! DIE!!!" it shrieked as it snapped at her head with pincers that, if they hit their target, could probably shear her head clean off. However, Iroka managed to evade its strikes, so the Hollow attempted another strategy. Suddenly veering its attack after seemingly aiming for her head, the Hollow managed to catch her left arm in its vise grip. Iroka flinched slightly, though she kept her eyes fixed on the creature's white mask.

"Not very talkative now, are we? Now that I've got you pinned down, you little rat--" The Hollow's words were truncated by a sudden uppercut swinging into it's jaw. Normally, Iroka wasn't strong enough to hurt the creature with unarmed strikes alone, and her uppercut had been with an open palm, which would only hurt if she placed enough force in the attack to rock its head backwards quickly enough. For a moment, the Hollow thought that was simply a feeble attempt on her part to hurt it, which was vain, seeing as she wasn't strong enough to harm it with that first kick...

...until the bright blue flames exploded from her open palm at point-blank range, slamming into the Hollow's jaw. It was all in the space of less than a split-second, but thoughts ran faster than such little pockets of time, and the Hollow was only able to register a thought of alarm before the blue explosion. Iroka's point-blank Soukatsui was certainly not going to be sufficient enough to kill the Hollow, but she had achieved her intention: getting her opponent to free her. It would also be a means to see just how resistant to damage the Hollow was.

In any case, the Hollow did not seem too pleased to have its head engulfed in flames. As it reeled from the attack, Iroka leaped backwards, and held out her uninjured arm, opening her palm. A small luminescent cube appeared in front of her open hand, and widened into a cuboid, with a black-hilted sword in the center of the cuboid. As the barrier dissipated, Iroka closed her open hand, her fingers wrapping around the hilt of her zanpakutō.

"Ganbare, Shugyoku Hirenaga!"

[Munemasa Iroka]

The Hollow shook its head, ridding itself of the blinding effect of the fiery explosion. So far, it didn't seem to have been greatly harmed, but Iroka noticed that her attack had had more effect than it seemed. The Hollow's body, which was covered in hard chitinous plates, appeared well-defended, except for the region around its jaw and neck, which she had struck. But with the way the Hollow positioned itself, its neck was hardly ever visible. As Iroka had been standing practically beneath it when it had gripped her arm, she had been able to gain access to that weak spot.

Perhaps this was an advantage of being of a small size, although the Hollow itself was rather large, compared to the average human-sized individual. Still, Iroka had attacked it once in its weak spot, and she was sure the Hollow would be much more wary about allowing her to attack from below its head. So she would have to adjust her strategy. Fortunately, Iroka still had quite a few tricks up her sleeve. It only meant that she would have to make sure that she utilized the element of surprise to the fullest, when she had to reveal her unused techniques.

For now, she needed to first heal herself. That would not be too much of a problem, though, with her Shikai having been released. The Hollow roared and dove at her, attempting to ram her with its head, while keeping its pincers at the ready to try to snap at her, depending on how she moved. Iroka evaded by using a Flash Step, apparently disappearing to reappear behind the Hollow, though she did not try to attack it. Instead, she used her Shikai's technique, Han'nyagake, on herself.

The Hollow turned and paused in surprise. Wasn't one of her arms injured before? How come her arm looked alright, now? There was still a bit of blood on it, so the Hollow was quick to realize that she had some sort of healing ability. "Oh, so you can heal yourself, eh? Pity that won't help you very much, as your measly tricks will only delay the inevitable," it said, charging again. This time, it moved in a zigzag pattern, trying to confuse her with its motions.

Iroka stayed still and watched the creature's movements, extrapolating how much speed it could muster to make a sudden twist of its body. As a deceptively intelligent person, that was not difficult for her to deduce. To make things better, the Hollow, like most other people who met Iroka, assumed she was some sort of idiot. She would not attempt to convince it otherwise. The carrot-top waited until the Hollow was very close to hitting her, before leaping into the air and to her left, such that if the Hollow reached out, it would almost reach her. Almost, but not.

The Hollow, however, had other plans. Even as it missed the Shinigami girl, its body undulated, such that the end of its tail rose up above the rest of its form, a bit like a scorpion's tail. And there Iroka noticed what the Hollow had in mind all along. A tiny prick of red had been charging on its tail, but as it undulated, said pinprick of energy suddenly expanded into a massive ball, before blasting outward in a beam at the airborne Shinigami, even as the Hollow cackled with glee. "You think you could outsmart me, you stupid little rat?! Time for you to die!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!"

[Munemasa Iroka]

To be fair to the Hollow, it had reasonably good observational abilities. And one thing it noticed that seemed to be some cause for alarm was the fact that Iroka did not seem to have been too bothered by the fact that she had been caught in its cleverly caught trap, just before the crimson wave flooded her position, obscuring her from view. Well, the girl was very probably an idiot. She didn't seem to have a perfectly functioning brain, based on how she seemed to respond to it....

But something seemed wrong. Before the Hollow could figure out what was going on, it found itself being blasted by a bright red Cero, albeit a much weaker one that what it had fired. Although the attack was just about half as strong as what it had fired, it was still enough to cause some damage to the creature. Who had fired that blast? Had the idiot girl gained the assistance of another Hollow? That was very unlikely, so what had happened?

As the raised dust from the Cero dissipated, the Hollow looked to see Iroka standing there alone. There was no other person or creature with her. However, the remains of some reiatsu-based shield were dissipating out of existence. The Hollow sneered. "What the heck was that? You reflected my attack somehow?" The centipede growled, coiling as it prepared for its next attack. "It matters little. Let's see if your shield will reflect a physical attack!"

No matter how many tricks this stupid girl had, she could not outsmart the Adjuchas, so it thought. It had fought through many battles, for many years, rising almost to the top of its cohort. She would be just one of the many souls that helped it along its way to greatness. The Hollow had to admit that she was not that shabby, which meant that this meal would be all the more satisfying when it devoured her. It just had to find a way to....

"Hey, Geji-geji!"

For the love of all that was sandy and soul-eating, not that horrid nickname! "Will you stop calling me that?!" the creature raged, its mandibles clacking in ire. "I'll make you sorry if you don't." Iroka, if she had heard its threat, paid the creature no heed. "I have nothing against you," she stated, with an apparently indifferent tone, "even though you're one of the ugliest pieces of crap in existence. If you turn round and walk away, I can guarantee you that you won't have to end your unfortunate existence here."

[Munemasa Iroka]

That did it! Yes, it had intended to eat that stupid Shinigami, and it didn't really care about playing with its food. But for this ill-mannered, stupid thing, it would make a hearty exception. "You are definitely going to regret your existence, you brainless worm!" the Hollow shrieked, uncoiling at an amazing speed and using the power of its uncoiling like a spring to launch itself at the Shinigami. Its pincers stretched out, it aimed for her legs. Its plan was to cripple her; get rid of her mobility.

Before, the Hollow would have aimed for her neck, or her torso. That would have made a rather quick death. Shinigami were so squishy and easy to kill. But this one had to have such a crass mouth on her as well. She could not be allowed to die easily. It would first wreck her legs, so that she would not be able to move. Then it would go for her arms, so that she would be unable to attack it as well. Then it would make her beg for mercy until it got bored. And only then it would kill her in the cruelest way that it could think of.

Unfortunately for the Hollow, Iroka had no intentions of dying that day. One moment, she was standing there, and the next she was gone, as its pincers snapped at empty air, making a loud snapping sound as the chitin blades came together in vain. Iroka reappeared behind the Hollow and began to chant. "Ye lord, Mask of flesh and--" The Hollow, realizing a spell was about to be cast, whipped around, aiming to hit the Shinigami with one of its pincers. It would have used its tail, but she was too close to be an easy target for its tail. A smarter Shinigami would have reappeared out of arms' reach.

But too late did the Hollow realize that a smarter Shinigami, if not staying out of arms' reach, definitely had a plan. To attack her with the backhand meant that the Hollow could not perform any immediate follow-ups or counters, unless it turned its body completely, which would give it a split-second disadvantage. And in battles, a split-second was the gap between victory and defeat. For Iroka, that split-second was enough. She took a step forward, so that she was well within its reach, and aimed at one of the joints of the swinging appendage.

"Aorenge: Fuetsu!" As she gave the command, Iroka made a downward chopping motion with her hand. Normally, the Hollow would not have been too worried about her hand-to-hand attacks, for she had not done anything amazing when she had to fight with her fists. But this time was different. As the Shinigami made her attack, a crescent of blue reiatsu followed the movement of her palm, meeting the oncoming pincer at the joint after the one which connected the pincer proper to what passed of as the Hollow's arm. And as true as any sword, the reiatsu wave cut cleanly through the soft tissue in the segments of the Hollow's armor.

[Munemasa Iroka]

The Hollow shrieked, a cry of both pain and rage, as its intended attack harmlessly missed Iroka, thanks to the pincer, which would have hit her, being severed and flying off into the undergrowth. Sure, it had natural armor, but the disadvantage of this armor was that while its armor was superior to the Hierro which normal higher-ranked Hollows possessed, there were areas of structural weakness, due to the flexibility of the tissues which afforded the Hollow movement. Iroka had been smart enough to target this structural weakness effectively. More importantly, she had been strong enough to make a clean cut through the Hollow's arm. Maybe she wasn't as stupid as she seemed.

For the first time that day, the Hollow realized that it had likely bitten off more than it could chew. It was also at this point that the Hollow realized that all Iroka's calling it Geji-geji had just been to get it angry and make an unplanned move, just like the one it had just performed. And said unplanned move had cost the Hollow one of its arms. Perhaps it was time to beat a hasty retreat. And even though this was embarrassing, they were both alone, so nobody would know of this ignominy.

Hopefully, their paths would cross again. And this time, it would make this irritating Shinigami pay. But for now, escaping was the best option. Being a Hollow had a lot of perks. Even though it had lost an arm, the loss was temporary. It would regenerate the lost limb in time, but that would take a while. With its missing limb, it was at a notable disadvantage, hence the decision to make a tactical withdrawal.

The question was how to escape. The Hollow thought it saw a possibility. It noticed that every time it made a lunging attack at the girl, she would get out of the way. It would do the same again, and when she got out of the way, it would just keep gong, dashing into the forest. From there, it would attempt to head as far away from her as possible, using the cover of the forest to secure its escape. Maybe it would even lead her to another Hollow, if she attempted to keep chasing it.

Assured of its escape, the Hollow charged one more time. Iroka moved, but to the Hollow's surprise, she neither used Shunpo, nor did she move entirely out of the way. While this was unplanned, there seemed to be an advantage to this. If she stayed within striking range, the Hollow would attempt to behead or bifurcate her with its remaining pincer, taking care to not expose any soft tissues unnecessarily while it did. And that was when the Shinigami clapped her palms together.

"Tansashō: Tsurigane!"

[Munemasa Iroka]

The Hollow was instantly hit by some strange wall of force, even as it dove at the Shinigami. It saw what looked like a giant bell surrounding Iroka, which not only protected her from the Hollow's attack, but struck it such that it glanced off the bell, passing to the side of the ginger-haired girl. And for the final time that day, the Hollow realized that even this seemed to have been part of the plan of this apparently stupid girl. Because when it glanced off her bell, the Hollow realized that she was on the side of it that was missing its pincer. It could not defend whatever thing she would do next.

"Hadō #63: Raikōhō!"

Normally, the cast kidō was meant to be a wide-ranged blast, one that would be quite apt for fighting a huge enemy, or engulfing multiple foes. However, Iroka had mastered the spell to the extent that she could manipulate its form: increase its piercing power at the cost of its horizontal range. But with the setup Iroka had prepared, she did not need any wide blasts to hit the Hollow. It had exposed its underside to her when glancing off her shield, and the Shinigami took swift and effective advantage of that opportunity. The lightning bolt, shrunk closer to the size of its weaker cousin, the Byakurai, shredded a great hole through the Hollow's midsection, giving it a much larger and jagged hole than the one it naturally came with.

"I can't believe this..." the Hollow gasped, even as it felt its life ebbing rapidly away. Iroka came and stood before it, an expression of pity on her face, which only infuriated the Hollow more. "Hopefully in your next life, which I pray will be much less violent than this one, you will not judge everyone you meet on first impressions and take them for granted. I bid you farewell, Geji-geji," she said, even as the creature's form began to dissipate. The Hollow, for its part, too late attempted to render a parting expletive, but was gone too soon.

"Well, that settles that," Iroka said with a sigh, as she turned to look at where she had dropped the sotoba, returning to pick up the grave marker. Hopefully, she wouldn't have to face any other Hollows. Although she had escaped relatively unscathed from this altercation, she was now feeling quite tired, with having traveled for a few hours with no rest, fighting through hordes in Rukongai, and now facing a powerful Hollow. Her meteor hammer glowed and changed form, returning to its katana shape. Iroka opened her palm, and a barrier formed, encompassing the weapon and vanishing along with it.

"You are close, Iroka," came the voice of her zanpakutō spirit, after the girl had traveled for about half an hour. She didn't need to be told, though. The sound of water roaring could be heard as she drew closer. As Iroka went round a bend in the forest path, she came across a sight she had seen once before. She was at the bottom of a beginning of a wide gorge, and a cascade of water fell from the rocks above, creating the channel through which a strong river ran. This was it. She had arrived.

"Everything you have gone through during your journey here was part of your test," Shugyoku Hirenaga said. "But now before you lies the last and final part of your test: the waterfall. Do you remember the story of the carp that becomes a dragon?" Iroka gasped. Could she do it? The river's current was strong. Could she do it? She'd never been known to have great physical strength. Then she remembered Fuuko, and the promise that she had made to her sworn sister, to find a way to prevent her from dying if ever she used her Bankai. For Iroka, getting Bankai held the promise of keeping her sister alive.

Iroka knew the answer to her own question. She could do it. She had to.

[Munemasa Iroka]

Even though Shugyoku Hirenaga had not said what she was supposed to do, Iroka was aware of her final task. Setting all her burdens down, she turned to face the waterfall. But as she took a step towards it, the voice of her inner spirit sounded again. "Set up the sotoba before you begin," instructed the fish. "This place will mark your grave, or here you will be reborn."

Iroka nodded and erected the sotoba, digging the earth to plant it in firmly and stabilizing it with small rocks. It looked and felt ominous, setting up one's own grave marker. But Iroka decided that this would not be her grave. This was not where she would die. With a resolute cry, she flung herself into the cascading water at the base of the fall, and the final battle to wield her ultimate power began.

Immediately, all sensations vanished. All, except feeling. There was only darkness, and the weight of some immeasurable mass that suddenly flattened her to the bottom of the waterfall pool. Something was wrong about this. Normally, the water was not supposed to feel that heavy. Even though she was not physically very strong, Iroka was sure that with her own spirit pressure, she could counter the power of the water. It was all physics after all, dealing with the weight of reiatsu and the weight of falling water.

"It is okay to die here, Munemasa Iroka. It's okay to give up," a voice called from the darkness. Suddenly, Iroka found herself standing in a cold, dark, featureless void. There was no apparent light, but her eyes seemed to be working after a fashion she could not understand. Out of the darkness came a short shapely form, dressed in a white kimono, the sort that corpses were dressed in for funerals. Her hair was carrot-orange, with a forehead lock of pink, and her sad soulful eyes were chartreuse.

"What's going on? Are you me? Or am I you?" Iroka asked in confusion. "Wait, this doesn't make any sense. I thought I was trying to swim up a waterfall. Why am I here sitting and talking to myself? And why are you dressed in burial clothes? Or why am I dressed in burial clothes?" Her doppelganger gave a sad smile. "I brought you here, because it's time for you to be at peace. It is time for you to die."